


Find Your Way Home

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Depression, Drugs, Epic Bromance, Heavy Angst, M/M, Multi, Original Character Death(s), Plot Twists, Possible Character Death, War, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-21 19:44:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2480186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been four months since Jean was discharged from the military for mental health reasons, he's grieving Marco's death. Heavily addicted to drugs and suffering from social anxiety and hallucinations, will Jean come to terms with the death? Or is there more to it than that. With a little help from Connie, his best friend who is also grieving and a certain blonde that has kept a secret from Jean he is able to figure his life out and get back on track.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wonderwall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Turbo_Nerd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turbo_Nerd/gifts).



> So this is my first fanfiction on this site so be gentle with me! I hope it's okay and I appreciate any input. It was an emotionally exhausting one to write. I'll start working on chapter two! I reference the song "Wonderwall" by Oasis in here and if you haven't heard it, please go give it a listen! :) thanks and enjoy the angst! The prompt came from Turbo_Nerd whom I want to thank deeply for the extra nudge to get this written! Thanks!

Find Your Way Home

 

It all happened so fast; I could see the faint, distinct greens of his uniform. I saw the pained expression on his face as he realized what would happen next. I saw the mental anguish on his face when he realized that I was there. I watched the power struggle between the man I love and his attacker, he was overpowered almost immediately. I could smell the gunpowder and death in the air. I watched as the bullet seared through his shoulder, crippling him to the ground like a heavy dead weight. The blood flew out of the back of his shoulder in an alarming splatter. He didn’t fight after that, he lay on his side moaning in agonizing pain. My finger was on the trigger but I couldn’t pull it. I aimed at his attacker but did nothing. I remember him screaming my name, looking me in the eyes and shrieking for me to run. For some reason, I froze in my tracks and just stared on. I couldn’t bring myself to raise the cold steel of my rifle onto the man and fire, he was someone’s Marco. Someone would miss him as much as I’d be missing Marco. He died because I couldn’t do my damn job. He died because I’m not capable of killing other people. I couldn’t save him; I wasn’t strong enough to save him. I glared at the sight of my entire world being eradicated before my eyes. It should have been me. My entire vision turned white. I watched as he disappeared from my eyesight and my grasp forever. My body crumbled to the ground like I’d seen his do moments before. My face connected with the hard, cold dirt of the earth. My arms at my side immobile and I tasted the awful tinge of blood as I coughed, my vision had gone black and my hearing was absent. Eventually so was my consciousness. He was only fifty feet away from me. Fifty feet closer and I’d have been able to hold him as he drew his last breath. Another minute or two and maybe I could have told him how much I loved him. Just like that, he was gone. I was gone. We were all gone. The love of my life was dead and I hadn’t even told him how much I cared. I couldn’t even do that. I’ll never get to do that. Hell, it wasn’t even clear that I was even alive. I could hear my own breathing and I could feel my heart pounding out of my chest in agonizing pain. I could feel the excruciating pain on my hip, I’d been shot. I didn’t know if I was even alive.

Just like before, the bright white light came into vision. I stood holding my hand in front of my eyes to shield it from the light; everything was confused and it was unclear of where or what I was. Before I knew what was going on I was running. I didn’t know where I was going but I ran and it wasn’t until then that I noticed a black shadow appeared in the far off distance. It was taller than I and it seemed so close yet so far away. No matter how fast I ran, I couldn’t catch it. I couldn’t bring myself towards it and eventually I stopped, even though I wasn’t tired. I didn’t comprehend logic or though in that moment all I felt was an urge to capture. I was the caged animal with a piece of meat dangled before my eyes but what was it? Who was I chasing and why? Why? I always had more questions than answers. I let myself give up, I let myself stop and lay on the cold ground. It was all white even my hand when I held it out in front of my face. The only thing that wasn’t white was the thick black shadow looming in the distance. I didn’t know who I was anymore. In the mass of confusion I heard words, “Find your way.”

* * *

 

 

“Jean…”

  
“Jean…hey.”

“Jean wake up.” I felt a hand grip my shoulder and shake it delicately. It was all a dream, just a nightmare. Every night this week I’d had that dream. It made no sense. Find your way. I sat up and wiped the cold sweat off my hot forehead with the back of my palm. I glance around the fucked up apartment-beer bottles and cigarette butts litter the coffee table, a musky cloud of smoke looming in the air and it reeks of old socks and whiskey. The tank top I was wearing may have been white at one point and the red plaid boxers were definitely at least a week dirty. It was dark. Of course it was because my electric had been turned off. I guess serving your country and returning home to live in a shitty apartment was what a troop like me deserved. Can’t even take a hot shower, that’s my fault though. I wasn’t going to leave my confinement to pay the bill. Not that I have the ambition to but that’s not the point. I brought a hand up to my two toned blonde hair and raked my nails over my scalp and through my greasy hair. I look up at the person responsible for saving me from my elusive nightmare. Connie. He was a lot different now than he had been in the service. He was no longer the happy go lucky guy that I knew from before. He lost so much, too much. Sasha… his eyes lingered with that familiar hatred; I knew I held the same look in mine. I hadn’t seen him laugh since we returned over 3 months ago. Although neither had I. “You look like shit man.”

He finally spoke after staring down at me for a few couple minutes. I didn’t answer him and slowly slipped back into my own mind. Oh. That’s why. My eyesight directed to the cloth wrapped around my bicep. I then noticed the throbbing pain caused by the tourniquet, which I quickly relinquished myself of. When I glanced around the room I found the needle not far away, lying on the floor. I just sat and stared at the syringe on the ground with wide eyes. I had relapsed again, I was angry with myself but I knew it was futile. I had only been able to stay clean for a week at a time. Getting high was the only way I could see him, I knew it wasn’t real but I saw Marco. I wasn’t ever going to be able to give it up, it would most likely be the death of me. If I went far enough into my euphoria, I could feel him too. Sometimes they were good visions but others were bad and last night was one of the worst. I saw his “death”. I can’t he’s gone for sure and that’s what kills me most. I was knocked unconscious by the grenade blast and carried away by Eren Jaeger. When the squad went back to gather the bodies we had lost over thirty men but only recovered ten bodies, one of them being Sasha’s. Marco was never found and they assumed that his body was lost in the aftermath of the explosion. That was the hardest part of losing him. The uncertainty. If I could have brought his body home and gave him a proper burial things might have ended differently for me.

“Jean…” His voice is soothing and patient, he lets me think without interruption. He his hand on my shoulder now and I know that it’s not fair. He’s going through the same pain yet he’s always the one to comfort me. I barely ever talk to him and he’s my closest friend now. I’m a little bitter at times because at least he got to bring Sasha home. Marco was lost over there with those monsters…

  
“Connie.” It’s all I can manage and it’s a pained whisper. My throat is hoarse and I feel like I haven’t spoken in weeks. My face stings from crying and I can feel dried blood caked in my nostrils. He moves things around so that he can sit beside me on the couch. I look over at him, feeling the strain as I try to focus through my bloodshot eyes.

  
“Eren and Armin are coming home.” He looked at me with a smile.We had been discharged earlier than the others. After losing Sash, Connie went into a mental anguish and I…Can’t even talk about it or remember for that matter.

“S’ good.” I’m happy for them; they deserve to finally come home. Eren is a great soldier even though I can’t stand him. He was the one that pulled me off of the battlefield and saved my life. He says it was a mistake and that he should have left me. I know he doesn’t mean it but sometimes I wish he would have. I wish I could have met the same fate as Marco. I wouldn’t be here now with track marks on my arms and a giant ass fucking hole in my heart. I can barely hold my head up. The pain in my spine and my neck is excruciating. I reach for the bottle of Percocet sitting on my coffee table and lift it into my hands. The doc recommends I take two for pain, I take four. Against the warning label, I wash them down with the remnants of my beer from last night.

“Armin isn’t going to want to see you like this.” He says. The mention of the blonde brings back painful memories. I know Armin wouldn’t recognize how I am now. He and I were very close in the service and he writes me weekly, sometimes I read them but I never reply. He understands though, that’s the fascinating part. No matter how many words I don’t say, he still writes. As if sending me these letters holds my spot as an active member of the group. I keep them because when I’m really morose, reading the letters is the only thing that calms me down. I keep them on my nightstand for the nights when I wake up in a cold sweat and need a familiar memory. He tells me about the rest of the squad and about the captains. He talks about Levi’s cleaning habits and Hanji’s crazy experiments. He tells me about how Bertolt and Reiner are a couple and that he feels like a third wheel with Mikasa and Eren. Armin misses me; he confesses that he has had feelings for me and that he wished he could be here for me. To help me get over the “Marco situation” as everyone has been calling it. He comforts me methodically and it feels good for awhile. Until I slip back into using, the only thing that helps me then is the cold burn of the drug in my veins. The heroin shapes me into a void, bleak being. Seeing Marco drives me to continue to do it though, I’d do anything to get to see that freckled face again.

“He’s asked about you every single time I talk to him, he wants to talk to you but I never let him. It’d break his heart to see you like this. You’ve got to move on with your life. This isn’t healthy.” He sighs heavily and I can tell he wants to give up on me but can’t. He’s been trying to “save me” ever since we came back home and I could tell he needed a savior of his own.

“I know.” I’m short with my answers and it frustrates him but I’ve forgotten how to hold a conversation. I’m no longer even human. I feel my lids grow heavy and my eyes itch from the pain medicine. If Connie hadn’t been here, I would have just snorted the pill. I look up at him with an unreadable expression, completely blank.

“When?” I’m vague but he understands.

“They’ll get in tomorrow. They want us to meet them at the airport.” It wasn’t at until that point that I’d realized Connie never mentioned Mikasa returning with them. I don’t ask, I figure that I don’t want to know. I shake my head in disapproval; I don’t want to go out in public. “You’re coming with me. I’m putting my foot down, Jean. I also talked to your landlord. She said you aren’t paying your bills. She pities you so I talked to her.” He stood up and looked around the apartment. “She’ll cut your lease up if you move out today. I want you to come live with me. I think it’d be good for you because you aren’t going to live through this if you keep it up.” I’m shocked by what he’s saying but it comforts me, the thought of having somewhere to go makes me feel like I’m not completely alone. Even though I am. I could argue with him, I know I should but I don’t. At this point, it doesn’t matter where I am. He grabs a stack of boxes that are stacked by my front door. “Pack your things, only take what you need. I have furniture.” He leaves to get us coffee from the shop down the street as I hobble to my bedroom and throw my few articles of clean clothing into a box, along with my letters from Armin and a couple other little personal items. I grab my heroin and needle. Lastly, I grab Marco’s backup military jacket that I stole from his bunk before the military cleaned it out. It’s the one item I can’t fall asleep without, I know it’s probably just in my head but the smell of him still lingers on the jacket. I look around the room and notice how empty my life really is. It has no meaning anymore. I’m a hollow body just waiting for the end. The last four months have been hard on me and I can admit that after looking over the apartment from where I stand now.

  
It’s not until I’m in Connie’s car that I realize how gross I am. Smelly clothing, greasy hair, grime and smoke covering my body, my arms are covered in bruises and spots where I’ve dug needles into my veins, and I’ve become very scrawny. The car ride is quiet and that’s the way Connie and I work. We don’t say much because neither of us has anything left to say. The sun is bright and hurts my eyes because I haven’t been out in it for almost a week but I do enjoy the warmth of its rays. It blankets me and gives me surreal feeling that Marco is holding me from behind and wrapping his long arms around my waist, like he used to. The people on the streets seem joyful, even the angry man flailing his arms as he talks on the phone. He’s probably fighting with his wife over something that isn’t important. If people only understood how fast all the precious things in life fade and they don’t come back. I let out a low whimper against my will and it earns a glance from Connie who is humming along with a song on the radio. I hear it and I feel the lump in my throat. “Wonderwall” by Oasis. I redirect my intention to the outside world, remembering why I stay in my apartment as I feel the hot tears swell up in my eyes but then he speaks. “This song reminds me of Sash…” His voice is pained and I understand. I wish I could hug him or comfort him but I stare out the window and mentally tell myself that it’s okay because I’m suffering too. “We were going to get married, you know. After we got out of the military.” I choke on my breath and trip over his words. It is very possible that he has never said this to anyone and I immediately feel guilty for not being a better friend. We only have each other right now so I look up at him. I want to smile but I can’t we both have tears in our eyes and in that moment I reserve my judgments. He chokes down a sob and I shake my head in understanding. He knows it’s all I can do and he accepts my gesture. “Thank you Jean.” We pull into a driveway in the middle of town and when I look up I see a large house that is bland and ghostly. It reminds me of those stereotypical haunted houses. It’s gray with black shutters and a red door. I notice nothing special about its appearance.

  
“C’mon Jean, let’s get you cleaned up.” When we’re inside I see that he lives here alone. It’s well kept and cozy but you can feel the loneliness looming in the air. It’s as if a ghost lived here and I’m intruding its space. He leads me to a bathroom and shows me how to work the shower. I pull my smelly clothes off and toss them in the garbage can. Maybe I think slightly too much into this action but it’s almost like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I step into the shower and turn the scalding hot water on so that it’s running directly over my head; I can see the tinged water running down the drain, stained by dirt and blood. The scars on my body are minor; I have a gunshot wound on my hip and a scar on my right cheek from where a bullet grazed it. I take a dollop of shampoo in my hand and rub it into my shaggy blonde hair and let the water rinse it out. I take the fresh bar of soap that Connie gave me and scrub over my body vigorously. It takes me a couple minutes to comprehend that I can’t wash off my problems along with the dirt. I rub the soap over the marks on my arms and it stings but I make myself look at them. I look at what I’ve done to myself and it hurts far worse than a lot of things. I feel my knees buckle and I fall to the warm ceramic finish of the tub. I let the water wash over my body and I curl up into a reclusive position with my knees hugged close to my chest. And then the tears come, I’m blindsided by the abrupt force. I haven’t cried this hard in a long time but it feels good and I feel like a human with real emotions while it lasts. I wait for Connie to knock and see if I’m okay but he doesn’t and I know it’s because he does the same thing. I wish I could stay like this until I drowned because I’ve been drowning for the past four months and it has never felt as refreshing as this. I stay like that until my fingers prune and my skin is red hot from the warm water pelting it. When I get out, I slip on a pair of pajama pants and a crimson red t-shirt that was much too large. I compose myself in the mirror, my eyes are sunken in and puffy but I make it a point to use the razor that Connie gave me. I hadn’t noticed just how bad my facial hair had gotten, straggly and overgrown. I shave it all off and manage not to nick myself even once. With a deep sigh, I head down into the living room where he’s sitting on the couch with a beer in hand and there’s a second on sitting there. It’s for me. He pulls a bong up to his lips and I hear the bubbling noise of the water as he hits the grass with his lighter. He offers the instrument to me and I gladly accept. When we got back, Connie took up smoking and I got into heavier addictions. I wish I had his contentment with marijuana. I smoke but it doesn’t fill the void the way shooting up does. Once I’ve taken a couple good hits he orders a pizza for us. We haven’t talked much but I find comfort in his companionship and I can tell he feels the same way. There are moments when we make eye contact and it feels like we should be saying something. Saying anything. But no words come out of our mouths. I manage to drift off for a couple minutes, leaning against the back of his comfortable couch. I’m awakening when I hear the doorbell ring and Connie shuffle to it to get the pizza. It’s the first time I’ve fallen asleep and not dreamt. Granted I was only out for ten minutes. I sit up when I see him return with the box and he hands me a paper plate. I accept it eagerly because I can’t remember when I last ate. I take a slice and take a small bite gauging the temperature.

  
“Jean, I think Armin and Eren are going to stay with us for awhile.” I look over at him with an uninvolved look. It doesn’t matter to me. I plan on staying in my room as much as possible. I don’t plan on talking to anyone, and I’m honestly waiting until he falls asleep so I can go upstairs and shoot up. “If you don’t want to go with me to the airport, that’s fine. I’m going to pick them up in the morning and bring them here. But you have to talk to Armin, please?” He is pleading, begging me with his eyes. That’s the kind of guy Connie is. He’s worried about Armin’s feelings when his were shattered a long fucking time ago. I wish I could be that self less but all I can think about is Marco. He’s the one person that believed in me from the beginning. I don’t love Armin and I don’t want him to get the wrong idea but if I’m friendly with him and it somehow helps Connie, I’ll try my hardest.

“I-I’ll try.” He knows it’s the best answer I can give. He accepts it with a nod and leads me to my room upstairs. It’s plain and empty but I set my letters from Armin on the nightstand and I lay Marco’s jacket on the bed and somehow it feels like home. I grab my syringe from a small bag and load it with the contents from the small vial. I take a sock out of my box and tie it around my arm and smack my veins to make the one puff out more. Sticking my arm with the sharp object and pressing my thumb against the cheap plastic I whimper under the pressure. I feel it enter in a sharp, burning pain at first and then a cooling relief that washes over my body. I make sure that I untie the sock and put away the objects so I’m not found like that in the morning. I feel my lids get heavy from the effects of the drug and lay back against the mattress. Marco’s jacket is in my grip and I feel a smile slide onto my face. I know it’s artificial and irrational but it brings me solace, I feel “happy”. The fuzzy warm feeling follows shortly after the smile and I feel a warm laugh escape from my mouth. Or was it someone else’s laugh?

* * *

 

“Jean stop!” His dazzling laugh struck a firm warm blow at my heart. I gave him a sly grin and continued to shove him until he fell onto the cold, damp grass. It wasn’t until I was on top of him that I realized he had pulled me down with him. “I told you to stop, now look at us!” He gave another light hearted laugh and leaned back into the grass to look up at the sky. I rolled off him and landed at his side with a loud sigh. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, taking in his glowing aura. He was always so joyous, even in the grimmest of times. We were at war and here this big idiot drags me outside to look at the stars.

“Jean?” he questions me with an almost childlike wonder.

“Yeah, Marco?” I grin cheerfully. I just can’t help but be exhilarated by his voice, he’s always made me so happy and I never really understood why.

“What’s going to happen to us when we’re done in the service?” His words hit me hard, mostly because I didn’t know. I know he was talking about him and I. He wanted answers that I hadn’t even begun to understand.

“Dunno.” I glance over at him, expecting to see his heart drop but it didn’t. His smile remained and he looked over at me with a hopeful look in his eyes.

“We’re going to get out of this hell and we’ll be happy. We’ll finally be able to talk about our relationship without having to worry about getting separated.” He was right, our relationship was hard to maintain because if we had gotten caught together, we’d get split up and thrown into two different squads. So we made a point to sneak out and spend time together whenever we could.

“That so?” I huffed my response at him shyly. Instead of answering me with words he used his lips. He pressed them firmly against mine and moved them in a passionate motion which I immediately mimicked. I felt him let a low whimper land against me and I shuttered in response. We wanted to make love but it wasn’t possible right now. We craved each other in the worst way possible but we couldn’t risk getting caught. When he pulled away I looked into his eyes and noticed a glimmer. A new sparkle appeared in his eyes. “Promise?” it was almost a whisper and he gave me a confused glance. “Promise that we’ll get out of here and be happy together?” I clarified and held my hand out.

“I promise…” he grabbed my pinkie with his.

“Jean I-“ he was nervous, I could tell by the way he scratched the back of his neck. “I have a confession to make.” That was all I needed to hear. I knew what was coming next, what I didn’t know was how to reply properly to his words. I wanted him to know just how much he meant to me but I wanted it to be at the right time.

“Jean, I love you.” I felt my heart thud heavily, even though this is what I expected. Hearing him say it meant so much to me. I opened my mouth to tell him how I felt. My jaw froze and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell him how I felt, I cursed my social awkwardness. Instead of getting angry or upset, he laughed. “It’s okay, you can say it back when you’re ready.” His words were kind and they held the sincerest of emotions. For the first time in a long time, I was happy.

 

* * *

 

The first time I had seen awaken from this memory, I was mad at Marco.

I cried furiously about how he’d promised me.

 

But not this time, I had seen it often now and I didn’t get worked up about it now. I’ve been crying in my sleep, my forehead has sweat collected on it. I roll over and try to forget and go back to sleep but I can’t. He’s all I see. My body is shaking and I immediately reach for my pain medicine and make a break for the bathroom. Once in there, I turn the sink on and cup water in my hand to shove it in my mouth so that I can swallow the pills. I look at my reflection in the mirror and wipe the crusted blood out from under my nose. My eyes are still bloodshot and puffy but I don’t do anything about them.

  
I walk down the stairs and into the kitchen where I poor myself a glass of orange juice. It tastes amazing compared to my usual beer and water only diet. I hear the front door open and I freeze in remembrance. I had honestly forgotten about Connie picking up Eren and Armin. I hear their familiar voices, deeper than I remembered. Armin’s sticks out most and it makes my breath hitch and my heart thud like I hadn’t felt in so long. I hear Connie call my name but I don’t move. I stand there in a monumental intake of every memory I’ve had with them. I remember things that Armin had written to me. The things that he said about me, how kind my heart is deep down. He was wrong, I’m not any of those things and he’s going to be so disappointed when he sees what I’ve become. But why should I care? That’s all I can ask myself. I shouldn’t care but I do. And that’s when I see them.

  
I look up in shock and take in their appearances, Eren looks about the same. He’s a little broader and his hair has grown out of the buzz cut. I also notice that his eyes have a harsh understanding of the world that we live in. I can see that loving glimmer in them still so I know that Mikasa isn’t dead like I had thought. My eyes shift towards Armin, who has been looking at me the whole time. He’s still as short as I remembered and he has the same lean build. His hair is still the same length and he is clean shaven. When I look at his eyes I notice the concern that they hold. I can see his emotion through the way he’s looking at me. It’s not pity though, it’s genuine concern. I can’t stand the pity I get and he can tell. I see his eyes scan over my physique that is lacking in comparison to theirs. I see his eyes widen in horror when he sees my track marks but when he catches my glance, they calm and I see a tear roll down his cheek. The next thing I know is his arms are wrapped around me. He’s crying against my chest and I have my face buried in his blonde hair. I let myself melt into him murmuring his name and letting tears slide down my own cheek. His arms easily wrap around my frail figure.

 

“God Jean, I’ve missed you so much.” It feels so good to hear his voice, I even smile a little bit. I let my arms snake around his body and I close my eyes.


	2. Keep My Secrets Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In these coming years  
>  Many things will change  
>  But the way I feel  
>  Will remain the same.  
>  ~Panic! At the Disco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about the wait on this one guys! I've been really busy and I promise chapter 3 will come much quicker than chapter 2 did. It's 5 am so I apologize for any errors. Please let me know what you think of this chapter! Thanks for reading!
> 
> ~Brit.
> 
> Oh! I have a Tumblr!----> http://stonerbabe69420.tumblr.com/

I never realized how much I missed him until he was in my arms. That’s not even correct. I was in his arms. The petite, slim figured blonde now outweighed me. Much shorter than I am but he was well built than I remembered. I couldn’t help but 

admire his fine appearance, and it was obvious that Eren had seen because he was giving me the usual Jaeger scowl. From what I remember, Armin had been the smallest guy out of the group. The truth was that I had thought very little about Armin, he could 

have never existed for all I had known. But then again, I didn’t really think about anyone other than Marco. It felt like eternity that we were in each other’s arms and it was odd to say the last. I hadn’t been “intimate” with anyone since…well that’s obvious. I 

wanted to say that it felt good, maybe even comforted me. But those feelings were very foreign to me now; I couldn’t remember anything other than sadness and self-hatred. I heard conversation behind us and none of it really registered. I mean I heard Connie 

and Eren talking but the presence of this angelic blonde in front of me blocked out the world around us. 

“I haven’t seen him looking this peaceful…” Connie didn’t finish his sentence. He felt me jerk back into reality because I wasn’t. I wasn’t peaceful. My hands fall from the blonde and I back away, looking at the ground as I do. Connie instantly regrets his words 

but before he can speak up Armin clears the air. 

“So you two live alone in this big house?” He starts to walk into the large living room and glanced up at the vaulted ceilings. So did I. wait… Oh. It’s then that I realize he’s still holding one of my hands. I don’t remove it. What’s the point? It’s easier this way. 

“Well Jean just got here yesterday, so I’ve been living here alone since we came back.” Connie’s smile is warm. Fake. He’s putting on a show for them. It’s phony and rigid and all I can do is ask myself why? Why does he bother? He’s hurting but he doesn’t show 

it in front of our comrades. Why is he putting on a façade for two people we haven’t seen in months?

 

“Jean, where were you before you moved here?” Armin asks. He’s gauging me, trying to figure out what kind of conversation I’m able to handle. I can’t handle much; I haven’t held a conversation in a long time. I’m used to this kind of treatment, it’s like walking 

on egg shells or juggling live bombs. People are afraid to say the wrong thing to me and send me over the edge.

“You,” I falter slightly before collecting myself. “Don’t want to know.”

He wouldn’t. The stench of alcohol and dirty clothes. The layers of filth that were coating the counters and floors. The dark, empty loneliness that was my apartment. The mental anguish from losing the only man I’d ever loved lingering in the air like fucking 

smog. And bless Connie because he really tries. 

“Yeah Jean’s not really one for cleaning.” He laughs, nervously I might add. 

“He doesn’t seem to be much for anything, anymore.” Eren spits under his breath, he still hates me. Hates me for being the coward to return home. Hates me for hitting on his sister the first day we all met. My thoughts scatter when Armin jabs him in the 

chest. It was out of line but that’s all Jaeger knows. Our service to our country has left him with a hollow bitterness that he fills with personal remarks directed at anyone on his “shit list”. It shocks me how much I remember about them all after so many 

months. I make a mental note to not delve any further into getting to know them. It’s best for everyone if I remain distant from their lives. I’m a poison that doesn’t need to be spread. I can’t be trusted with my own stories, why should I be trusted with theirs? 

I’m unworthy. Marco…It’s my fault his story ended too soon.

 

After awhile, I realize that we’ve made it to the living room and it’s just the three of us. Connie, Armin and I. Eren went on a beer and pizza run. It’s Connie and Armin making small talk, joking about training days, and Connie reminiscing about Sasha that 

brings me to life. “She was just so strong, I miss her so much…” Connie says. Sasha was strong. I remember this even after trying to make myself forget. I remember them, all of them. Even after trying to block them out of my memory for good. It feels so 

different. After so long, it feels so good to be with them and I’m scared of how fine I feel. I hadn’t forgotten Marco, I never would but I found a temporary crutch. Even if for just a couple hours, I wanted to feel normal. For once, my heartache wasn’t crippling 

me. It’s like a little part of me had been awakened and allowed to return to normalcy and the other parts of me were trying to drag myself down. 

“Hey Jean…” Armin interrupts my thoughts, looking at me with an unreadable expression. “You never…” he doesn’t finish his sentence. He doesn’t have to. He shakes his head, his perfectly groomed blonde hair swaying, it illuminates how perfect he is. Armin’s 

striking blue eyes hold a distressed glimmer as he looks at me expectantly. The possibility that he could have been waiting for me to write back to him hit me finally. I could ignore him but it hurt, the way he’s looking at me. 

“I know…” is all I say. It’s meaningless enough to me. But to him, it’s a light at the end of the tunnel. The silver lining that gives away my darkest secrets. Even if it isn’t a secret, he knows that I read the letters. It must have been the careful precision in the 

sound of my voice or maybe it was my facial expressions softening into a wounded smile. I didn’t have any time to admire the comforting look on his face before Eren the human wrecking ball had crashed through the front door, manhandling a case of beer 

and a couple pizzas. “Alright assholes, come get it.” I scoff. Armin smiles. Connie is there. 

 

Things are okay.

 

We’re okay.

 

It isn’t long before the pizza is gone and we’re all fairly tipsy, passing Connie’s bowl around. Connie and Eren shotgun a couple beers. Eren wins. The room is full of mock happiness. I feel my reclusive self verging on madness, the bud and beer mixed with my 

medication turn me into an internal mess. I think I’m tripping but at the same time, I feel perfectly sober. I want to talk but I know I shouldn’t. I look at Armin and he’s already looking at me. Fuck. This is how mistakes happen, this is how people end up 

bringing home dates that turn into stalkers or…what the fuck was I saying? I smile. I can’t tell whether it’s even real or not. I drink more, trying to forget his name. Trying to forget how perfect he is and the fact that he’s shattering the illusion that I’ll never care 

about anyone again. He’s breaking down the walls I’d built around myself and he isn’t even aware. 

“You guys remember how we all used to sit around that shitty Xbox in the rec room back on base? Playing fucking Modern Warfare until lights out…man those were fun times. Of course, Connie and Jean fucked everyone up.” Eren scoffed and took a sip of his 

beer, the sweat on the can blatantly apparent to me. The speckles of dew on the can. Little dots of water littered the grey aluminum. Fuck, it pissed me off and I didn’t know why. Oh-

“You okay, Jean?” It was Armin, he was smiling warmly. As always. I nod, he’s unsure of whether to drag out the topic and luckily for me he doesn’t. 

“Yeah I have a Ps4 now.” Connie points to the system sitting high atop his entertainment stand in all of its beautiful glory. He brags when he rightfully should. None of us have a four hundred dollar hunk of Sony’s beautiful love child sitting in our laps. 

“Fuck dude, you’ve gotta let me play it…do you have that new game. The Evil Within?” 

“Do I have The Evil Within he asks, of course I fucking have it.” He rolled his eyes and I laugh, for the first time in a while. Connie and I have a mutual love for survival horror games. We spent many of late nights playing through Resident Evil 5, smoking dirt 

weed, and drinking shitty beer in our teenage years. Okay, no judging. I realize that Connie is grinning at me know and there’s a moment of understanding when we look into each other’s eyes. He understands, he knows I’m thinking about our friendship. The 

look on his face says it all. After awhile he turns his attention back to Eren.

“You think I would pass up Bethesda and Mikami working hand in hand? Fuck dude, the first five minutes of the game are so gruesome. The gore, man the fucking gore.” I’m thoroughly intrigued now and it takes me awhile to notice Armin is closer than I 

remembered when I look over. He’s been scooting closer this entire time, hasn’t he? Fuck. Fuck. Be cool, Jean. I lift my arm up and rest it on the top of the couch, giving the obviously drunk blonde room to lie down. Why am I doing this? I feel the blonde rest 

his head up against my leg, not on it but damn close enough. I start to freak out and then a voice in my head calms me. A voice tells me I need this. This voice tells me that it’s okay to enjoy the comforting warmth that Arming gives me. I listen and just enjoy 

the conversation at hand because fuck, I’ve missed conversations like this. 

“And then Joseph Gordon Levitt lookalike tries to fucking kill Sebastian dude…it’s insane.” Connie breaks in and Eren scoffs.

“What the hell Con, just turn it on, don’t ruin the whole thing.” He doesn’t even realize his precious blonde perched up against me. I always thought they’d be the ones to end up together. I always figured that Eren would eventually get horny enough to tell 

Armin how he felt. Either I had seen more in their relationship than what was really there or Eren was the biggest procrastinator ever because they still weren’t together. I don’t even listen to the conversation anymore, all I want to do is fall asleep and dream 

about him. I need to see Marco. I rise to go to my room and I hear Armin let out a protesting whimper. It’s cute and for some reason a smile slips onto my face.

“Hey Jean, can you do me a favor and take Armin to his room? I’m pretty invested in this game already.” It’s a lie and I know it because he’s walking slowly around the outside of what looks to be a castle. He can’t be that invested in it. For some reason I oblige, 

while telling myself mentally how much I fucking hate him. The sad part is that I don’t hate him and I’m not even relatively mad at him. As much as I try to deny it to myself, I’m happy for the chance to help Armin. He doesn’t know how much he’s done for me 

over the months. 

I see him sit up and stumble around, instinctively I hold my hand out and he latches to it quickly and without hesitation. The touch makes me flinch. I’m okay. I’m okay. We make it to the stairs and I mentally brace myself for the scattered mess that is Armin 

Arlert.

“Jean, I don’t want to go to bed.” He pouts. Shit. How do I handle /this/? Before I can answer, his grasp on my shirt catches my attention. He’s clung onto me for dear life, he trusts me. What’s wrong with me? Why should such a simple action change anything? I 

still feel nothing, I’m numb. I’m the same as I’ve ever been, I tell myself. So why do I feel so warm?

“Come on, Ar.” It slips out of my mouth before I give it permission to. I purse my lips in surprise.

“You…called me Ar.” He looks at me with the most shocked expression as we continue to fumble up the stairs. He trips and I catch him. “oops” he says. I sigh. The pain is gone. Where did it go? Why do I feel so comfortable? I lose myself in thought and when I 

return to reality, we’re at the top of the stairs. 

“Is this your room?” Within seconds, he’s out of my grasp and in my personal space. His eyes must have caught the stack of letters on my nightstand because he’s standing still in his tracks, staring at them. I’m in the doorway with my hand propped on the 

frame, watching him. It’s like something draws me in when I see him sit on the bed and run a cautious hand over them. I draw closer until I’m sitting beside him. 

“You kept them…you kept my letters.” He’s in disbelief. I don’t understand, how could I throw something away that holds so much symbolism? 

“I did.” There’s nothing to my voice. Hollow. Confused. Alone. Hurt. But then there’s Armin’s voice. It’s full of care and concern. I sense the fear quickly infect his words. He’s looking at my arms now. The red marks and my popped veins are showing, they have 

come to define me. The only time I’m me is when Marco comes to me in my drug induced visions. They’re the moments I live for now. 

I feel like most people around me would rather that I just end this pathetic life I’m living. They wonder why I’m still here and I wonder sometimes too. I’d love to be dead, with Marco. I’d love to see him again but I don’t believe in heaven or hell. I don’t believe 

in some silver fucking gate, waiting to absolve all of our pain and take us to eternal bliss. A life with no struggle. That’s bullshit. 

Armin’s fingers graze across my arm and the tender skin sends a jolt of pain snapping me back into reality. 

“Why do you do this to yourself?” He looks hurt. Just like Connie did the first time he noticed them. I wonder if Armin will just ignore them and pretend I’m normal the way Connie does. I hope so. 

“Feels good.” Marco. I do it to see Marco.

“There are better ways to get over what’s troubling you Jean…” his voice is stern now, like I’ve sobered him with my shitty habits. Like I’ve offended him by doing this to myself. “I hate to see you in pain, I don’t want you to suffer, Jean.” It took me a second to 

put the words together, was it obvious that I was in that much pain? 

“I’m sorry.” I apologize. I have no idea why I’m apologizing. But I do. I feel obligated to apologize to him. 

“Me too…” He doesn’t explain and I have a feeling it’s a good thing he doesn’t. I don’t want to hear it. He yawns. He’s so tired. I can see the inner struggle between staying awake and going to sleep on his face. “I can’t sleep alone, Jean…” I gasp slightly, my 

eyes wide with fear. “I don’t want to sleep alone…” Then it slips away, I can’t think of a term for what I’m feeling. My life has come down to the labeled emotions. Sadness. Emptiness. Loneliness. But is it possible to not know what you’re feeling? I want him to 

stay, I almost feel like him staying would be a good thing. 

“Lay down here…” My voice is soft. I don’t recognize myself at first. “L’ stay with you until you fall asleep.” He follows my orders, kicking his shoes off and pulling the covers out to lay under them, I blush nervously when he pulls Marco’s jacket out from under 

the blanket. I reach out for it quickly and I can see the sadness in his eyes. I’m not the only one that misses Marco. I take it and carefully lay it on the opposite side of the bed. I sit and watch him for a couple minutes before he reaches out to me with a steady 

hand. I’m not exactly sure what he wants. I hold a hand out for his, my reaction is slow and shaky. He grips my hand and I feel a current flow through my body, sending a jolt to my heart. 

“Jean, will you lie down with me?” His voice is nervous and for some reason I find myself obliging again. I’ll lie down with him until he falls asleep then I’ll slip into the bathroom and shoot up. I’ll go to the bathroom and be with Marco. I let my weary body fall 

behind his, keeping a distance between us. I feel his hand grab mine and pull my arm around his waist as he lets out a content sigh. 

The sensation was bittersweet. It felt good to be close to someone like this again but it didn’t feel right. I wanted to get up and run, I wanted to get far away from whatever I was feeling. This was complicated, this feeling was consuming me. Why me? Why 

couldn’t he sleep with Eren or even Connie. The thought in itself irritates me a little bit. I like Armin, he’s a great friend. If he can be here for me then I should be able to be there for him when he needs this. He’s drunk and upset. That’s all it is. That’s all any of 

this is. He’ll wake up and it’ll be normal again.

I will wake up and be the same as I was before all of this. Before Armin-

 

I didn’t even open my eyes because I didn’t want to shatter this illusion. Marco’s body was pressed up against mine, he was warm and this hallucination felt real. The warmth of his breath against mine as we faced each other was enough to make me whimper 

in my sleep, he felt so real. My hand on his delicate hip and his forehead pressed up against mine. Our legs a tangled mess, intertwined and holding each other together. I let out a deep sigh and opened my eyes, I didn’t know if I’d be faced with my pillow as I 

normally was or if I’d be met by his shining amber eyes. The odd part was, I couldn’t feel the burning of the drug running through my body like I usually could. I couldn’t remember shooting up at all, I didn’t remember going to the bathroom and passing out 

on the cold tile flooring in a heaping mess like I had intended. Then how was this possible? With one eye I squinted, opening the other. 

Pulling myself out of the bed in horror, carefully untangling myself from the blonde I grabbed my pill bottle and took off to the bathroom. When I looked in the mirror, my eyes were red and had large puffy bags under them. The sink nozzle sputtered to a 

steady stream as I dipped my cupped hands into the water and grabbed handfuls of it, splashing it on my revolted face. I had gotten too close to Armin and it scared me. I shouldn’t have let myself fall asleep with him. He felt so good though, I felt safe. Warm. 

Filling a Dixie cup with water, I let my body slump to the cold tile like I had originally planned, I looked at the pill bottle in my hand shook it. I needed to take it, I needed the comfort it offered. Popping the tab, a handful of little white pills rolled to the center 

of my palm. Without inspecting the quantity, I dumped them in and took a gulp of the water and repeated the process one more time. Part of me wanted this to be the end, the other half wanted this to be the beginning. Tossing the nearly empty pill bottle 

across the bathroom, I looked at the floor, counting the small rectangular squares. Only for each square, I counted a time I had fucked up in my life instead of a number. Tears heavy in my eyes as I thought about my life. 

Failing fifth grade.

Barely passing eighth grade.

Telling my parents that I’m was gay.

Not being able to keep my father from beating my mother.

Not killing my dad when I had the chance.

Letting my mother die.

Joining the military.

Hitting on Mikasa.

Falling for Marco.

Having a relationship with Marco.

Enlisting in active duty.

Letting Marco die.

Getting addicted to drugs.

Letting Armin sleep in the same bed as me.

I thought enough of those little pills would make me forget their names and faces…

 

I forgot my name instead.

Each tile was a little blurrier than the last. My eyes became heavy and itchy; my arms…useless, legs were useless too. I couldn’t move, all I could do was drool and feel my body fall limply to the floor and my head smack off the hard ground. My clammy skin felt 

hot and I was sure this was the end. The end that I deserved. I needed this from the beginning. Maybe there is a heaven. Maybe I’ll get to see Marco again. Wishful thinking, it wasn’t even logical to think this way. My thoughts were moving faster than I cared to 

process them. It sucked that I would go out this way. It fucking sucked a lot. When this overwhelming sadness came rushing in, I needed Marco. I needed to reach him, be with him. But I couldn’t get to him this way. I was stuck, in between reality and 

hallucination. I had merely ceased to exist and I was forcing myself to be okay with this. All I could see was nothing. Plain emptiness. But I felt a lot of things. I felt arms wrap around my body, someone holding me and rocking back and forth. I heard voices. I 

couldn’t tell whether I was in a dream or reality…

“Jean…fuck.” Connie? 

“What’s going on?!” 

“Call 911, he took almost all of his medication..” The heaving and puking started then. 

“Is that blood?!” I could feel my mouth frothing. I was going to die, after all of the struggling I had gone through…this was my end. A cold bathroom floor. A sinking feeling in my gut, I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want to die yet. I had nothing to lose. But at the same 

time, I had everything to lose. I wanted to live. I didn’t want to be alone. 

 

Then I felt his arms around me.

 

And everything was okay…Those familiar arms held me close and I subdued to their grasp. Letting myself slip further and further from reality…

 

“Jean!” 

 

“Jean, wake up…please wake up…” sobbing. How sad. I’m sorry Armin. I chose Marco. 

 

 

But it wasn’t Marco this time…

\----------------------

 

“Jean…are you awake?” My eyes blinked open. Armin. He was in full gear, tears in his eyes. A heavy look of panic weighing on his face.

“What…” Trying to sit up, I felt my body fall limp under my weight.

“There was an accident…” he sighed heavily, it was obvious how uncomfortable he was in this position. He didn’t want to be the one to tell me this. Armin didn’t deserve this guilt. No. No, don’t say it.

“Ar, what…What happened…” I laugh ironically, I don’t want to know what happened.

“During the battle…Marco was never recovered. He’s missing, they’re classifying him as killed in action…I’m so sorry.” That’s when my mind went blank. That’s where my memory fades. I don’t remember existing in the military after that point. I’m watching 

myself. I’m watching myself fall apart again and there’s nothing I can do. I’m sobbing incoherently, shouting at him. He just stands there and takes it. He carefully sits on the bed and wraps his arms around me.

“It should have been me…it should have been me.” I say. I’m throwing things and trying to rip the IV out of my hand. He’s there. He holds my hands and I stop. I stop in the middle of my blind rage and look into his eyes. 

I feel like I’m going to say something that he deserves to hear…

I think that I’m going to hear myself tell him how thankful I am that he Is trying to help me. Is trying to fix things…for me. 

I think that I’ll thank whatever merciful god there is out there that let him live because I care about him too. 

“Why wasn’t it you…Why couldn’t it have been you…” 

 

His heart shatters.

 

My heart shatters. 

 

Suddenly, I know why I owe Armin. I know why I owe him for everything he’s done. I want him to punch me, I want him to hit me as hard as he can. But as I watch, he holds me close. He holds me tight and runs a hand protectively through my frazzled hair as I 

cry. My rage is over and I’m reduced to a sobbing mess. 

“I’m here for you Jean…I know you don’t want me right now. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry but you have to calm down. Everyone is worried about you…” I can see how tense my body is. 

“Armin…get out.” My voice is cold and harsh. He doesn’t speak. He quietly gets off of the bed and walks towards the door. Once I think it’s over, once I’ve collected myself. I feel like I can handle this blow. This can be fixed. I’m hit again. He stops by the door 

and looks over his shoulder. The look in his eyes says it all. It says what I’ve denied all along. Then he turned to face the door. 

 

“I love you too.” 

 

It’s a barely audible whisper and it takes me a minute for me to understand. Marco wasn’t the only one…

All along, I’d never let myself see it.

Marco loved me and Armin loves me too.

 

\------------------------

 

I awaken to a familiar setting…I’ve been “here” before. I’m in a hospital bed with a needle pricking my hand. When I look over, it’s Armin. He’s sleeping in the chair next to the bed, he looks exhausted and the worry is very apparent on his face. I bare an 

immense amount of guilt. I know why I blocked out the memory. I would never want to admit to treating Armin like that…He doesn’t deserve it.

His eyes flutter open and when he realizes I’m watching him, he approaches carefully. I see the parallel. I see history rewrite itself. I change the ending. I change the game. I fucking do what Armin deserves.

This time, it’s me. I hold my arms out and let his weight come crashing down onto me. He’s crying. I’m crying. He knows what I saw. He can tell that I’m sorry. Before I can even tell him that I’m sorry, he knows. I hold him like he’s the most precious thing in 

my life.

And he is. 

“Armin…I…” 

 

his lips are on mine.


	3. By Your Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No I am not where I belong,  
> So shine a light and guide me home.  
> ~City and Colour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 3 for you guys! Thanks for the support, I hope you're all enjoying this so far. Please leave any advice or feedback in the form of a comment...kudos are nice too! ;D 
> 
> As always, I have a Tumblr----> http://stonerbabe69420.tumblr.com/
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy and thanks for reading! :)

“We have a new guy here today, please say hello to Jean. He will be attending our meetings for the next six months.” Her voice is full of care and she’s slightly too chipper for 8 a.m. I remember her tacky sweater pissing me off. And I wasn’t expecting a formal 

introduction. I was hoping that she’d let me just sit in the corner unnoticed. It wasn’t my idea to be here and I honestly don’t have any intention on giving up my habit. I’m doing this for my friends. They signed me up for the group to get me the “help I so 

desperately need”. I don’t need anyone. I don’t need their help either. I oblige for their sake and because it gets me out of the house and away from Eren for awhile. 

It’s been three days since I’ve been discharged from the hospital for my overdose. Three days since Armin kissed me and three days since we’ve spoken. It’s been awkward to say the least, I want to talk to him and tell him I understand why he did it but I don’t 

understand. I don’t return the feelings and I don’t know why he cares about me. The emotion is so foreign to me, I don’t think I’m capable of feeling it anymore. It’s been looping through my mind since the incident. I’m not mad at him but he’s hurt, upset with 

himself and bitter that I don’t return the feelings. I love Marco. I still love…Marco. That’ll never change.

“Welcome, Jean.” They say, pulling me back to this stuffy room. They all sound like robots. I glance around the room; no one in particular stands out. There’s a lady with a large scar down her left cheek and over her eye and it brings painful flashbacks to look 

at her. It brings back memories of my time in the service. To my left, there’s a teenage boy. He couldn’t be over the age of 15 and it makes me wonder what happened to him to make him turn to drugs to ease his pain. I smile awkwardly and hold my hand up 

slightly to let them know that I heard them. 

“All right, as you all know I am group leader, Petra Ral. I will be with you all to help you on your road to recovery!” she is petite and cute. Despite that god damned sweater. There’s no way this girl has ever touched a joint, let alone had a run in with narcotics or 

hard drugs. Why is she “helping” others get over their problems? Oh, she’s probably one of those counselors that doesn’t have any life experience, only book experience. Great.

“Hello Ms. Ral.” The drones say. Is this a fucking cult? 

“Please, call me Petra.” They nod in approval. I sit in utterly painful detest of this entire scenario. I immediately regret my decision of coming here. I love my friends but this is too much. 

“Would anyone like to share their story?” I don’t even want to know what my expression looks like right now because this is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever had to sit through. The teenager beside me raises his hand and then stands.

“Hello, I’m Milieus.”

“Hello Milieus.” Are these people serious? I am definitely witnessing a cult right now…

“I’ve been clean for two weeks. My last time, I was at a party and my girlfriend of six months had just left me for another guy…” he looks sad and a couple people in the room gasp, likes it’s so fucking horrible. Like he just told some extravagant Romeo and 

Juliet bullshit story. This is pathetic and sad, I pity this kid.

“I thought I loved her…I still think I love her. I snorted a Vicodin and I’ve regretted it every day since…” He’s crying now. People are gawking over him and he appears to be enjoying it. They clap and cheer him on. I can’t do anything but sit and look around the 

room at these people. 

“You are strong, Milieus. We recognize your strengths. Please keep fighting for yourself and your God.” I want to laugh. I want to say something but I sit in the stupid ass circle and listen to this nonsense. 

“Alright, who else?” Petra looks around the circle with a warm smile on her face. She appears to care, no matter how pathetic these stories sound. She really does care. That’s admirable I suppose. I don’t think I’m better than any of these people, I know I’m the 

worst one here because I don’t want to get better. I don’t want to be here and I wouldn’t be if I didn’t care about my friends. A couple more people tell their stories of strength and weakness. Some of them sound authentic and others sound like they were 

forced to come here. I understand why they don’t want to be here. I wish I understood the people that came here of their own free will. They must be insane. The lady with the scar stands. 

“My name is Rico. I have been clean from my cocaine addiction for two years. I lost my husband three years ago. We were both on the police force and he was shot and killed. There’s not one day that isn’t a struggle but you have to keep moving forward.” She 

doesn’t give the drones a chance to talk to her. Just says what she needs to say and sits back down. She doesn’t want pity or recognition. I have to wonder if she’s here of her own free will. I don’t mean to but I admire her. My eyes linger on her for a few 

seconds and she notices. She sees me studying her.

I wonder if she used to see her husband when she got high.

“Alright, we still have ten more minutes, who else wants to share their story?” Petra is pushy about sharing. We’ve heard a lot of stories today, too many to be honest. She tells an inspirational story from the bible in between almost all of them. Except for 

Rico’s. Her story stands alone; it doesn’t need a follow up. Especially not something from the bible. 

“What about you Jean. You haven’t said a word since you’ve been here. Introduce yourself.” Her voice is warm as she tries to coax me out of my seat. I don’t want to and I try to refuse. I shake my head and wave my hands in protest. 

“Just stand up, you can tell us anything, you can’t rise above this if you don’t talk to your peers. We understand what you’re going through and you don’t have to be alone. Everyone in the room has been in your position.” Okay, that pisses me off because the 

only one here that possibly knows what I’m going through is Rico. None of these people except for her have stood where I stand. ‘Just work up the courage to speak once and I’m sure I’ll never get bothered again’ I tell myself. Reluctantly I stand up, the scowl 

from before never left my expression and the hazed over look in my eyes makes it obvious to everyone in the room that I don’t want to be there. I thrive on silence these days and these people want something I simply can’t give them.

“I’m Jean…” I see a couple people opening their mouths to speak but quickly shut them. I lift the sleeves of my hoodie up and reveal the bruised track marks on my arms. “This is from last night.” I point to the large tender welt on my left arm. “I was a soldier 

four months ago, I watched my boyfriend die. It was my fault” The words hurt as soon as they fall from my lips but I force myself to continue. “I was discharged and I have no intention on giving up my addiction.” I sit back down. No one claps. No one speaks 

for a long amount of time. Rico looks at me with a knowledgeable expression before nodding. I feel guilty for not being as strong as she is but I know she doesn’t pity me. She was in my position before.

“…Okay…Well it looks like it’s time to go! Let’s say a quick prayer and then you’re all free to go home. There are cookies and juice in the back if anyone wants a snack! Let’s join hands!” Milieus looks over at me nervously before holding his hand out, I roll my 

eyes and connect hands with him and the junkie on the other side of me. The people around me said their prayer and we were allowed to leave. I wasted no time in rising and making my way towards the door until I felt a hand on my shoulder that stopped me 

in my tracks. When I turned, I saw Rico. 

“I get it. Jean…” she didn’t smile or sugar coat her words. She merely said what she had to. “You think that you can just block everyone out and continue on the path you’re on. It doesn’t work that way. Trust me, I found out the hard way. Your family wanted 

you to attend these stupid meetings, right?” 

“Friends…basically family.” I trust her, I feel like I can tell her anything. She has a warming cold personality. She’s supportive, in the most distant way possible.

“Well you need to start doing things for you. Start to live. I know it’s going to take a hell of a lot more than a stranger to convince you to stray off of this path because it took me a lot more than a stranger randomly reaching out to me.” She scoffed and patted 

my shoulder before walking away, not giving me a chance to reply..

I stand there in utter shock as I think about what she said to me. A police officer. A fucking ex cop telling me how to handle my drug problem. I leave the uncomfortably warm room and head for the parking lot, passing multiple different rooms that are having .

different kinds of group meetings. Nothing particularly interesting. 

 

I get outside and expect to see Connie. It’s Armin. I blush slightly because I realized I haven’t spoke to him since the night in the hospital. I can remember the entire situation like I’m reading it off of the back of my hand. I can remember the heartache that has 

kept us away from each other until this point.

_____________________

The guilt from my flashback ringing so loudly in my head that I’m sure it’s obvious that I’m having an internal struggle. The blonde looked at me with knowledge of this moment. He knew that I was remembering the last time I was in the hospital and he was 

consoling me. The cruel words I said to him. I held my arms out to catch him and he happily crashed into them. We were both crying, his hands wrapped around my neck and mine protectively around his waist. “Jean…” I squeeze him tighter in recognition. I 

forget how to speak as I normally do. Instead I play through the possible replies in my brain. 

“Ar…” he leaned against me and our eyes lock. The look he’s giving me…it’s like he’s searching for something, frantically. His blue eyes scanning every detail of my face until they lock on my eyes. I let out a deep breath as I watch him carefully. I’m waiting but 

I don’t know what I’m waiting for. His eyes drop down to my lips and he leans in closer. There’s a moment where his head is angled and he pauses, hovering with his lips almost touching mine. I want to back away but I can’t bring myself to move, my breath 

hitches and I look at him with a questioning glance even though I know what will happen next. It’s not so sudden, his lips eventually make their way onto mine. I want to say that I feel butterflies and that I’m able to forget about everything bad that’s happened 

and continues to happen but I feel nothing. It’s a light, tender kiss and it breaks my heart because I can tell he’s waited so long for this. I pull away so that just our foreheads are touching, his soft blonde hair is in my vision and I eventually make eye contact 

with him. 

“I can’t…” it’s all I can say, I don’t want to hurt him but I can tell that it’s too late for that when he pulls himself back completely and just stares at me.

“I know…I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-“ I cut him off, because I still owe him. I owe him an apology and I owe him four months worth of letters that I never returned. I pull the tiny blonde down to lay beside me and look into his eyes. They’re striking to say the least 

and maybe someday I’ll be able to return his feeling, but I can’t tell him that because I don’t want to get his hopes up. I try to resist the urge but I can’t…I reach out and carefully brush a loose strand of his golden hair out of his face and tuck it behind his ear. 

Armin nuzzles into my hand as I do it and I drag him in even closer. I fall asleep for the first time in awhile without having to resort to drugs or alcohol. I don’t have any nightmares and I find it odd that when he slept with me, I felt safe.

Despite the apologies. Despite the close proximity of our bodies…

 

Suddenly, we were strangers again.

 

______________

 

“Hey…how’d it go?” He is quiet and offers me a warm smile as I get closer to him. His hair tied back in a pony tail and his eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. I still feel awkward but at the same time, his presence makes me feel more comfortable. 

“It was…interesting to say the least.” I smile back at him as we walk side by side to the car. 

“Interesting is better than bad. I’m glad to see you making an attempt at getting better…I hate seeing you suffer. It was so hard to see you that night…” I get in the passenger’s seat and look at my hands, feeling guilty. It isn’t fair for him to worry about me, I 

know I’m not going to get better anytime soon and I wish he wouldn’t have so much faith in me.

“M’ sorry, Ar.” 

“I love when you call me that.” He laughs slightly causing me to look up and smile. We make eye contact for a second before he pulls out of the parking lot. “Eren and Connie are still playing video games.” He scoffed and shook his head. Connie had been doing 

a lot better with Eren to pal around with. Eren was doing the things for Connie that I couldn’t. Being there for him, helping him embrace the memory of Sasha…getting drunk and playing video games with him to clear his head.

“Let’s grab something to eat, okay? I’m starved and I’m sure you are too.” He’s blushing and it’s fucking adorable. Wait, what am I saying? I nod in agreeance, I was hungry. And Connie was one of those people that could live off of pizza, it seemed to be the 

only thing he kept on hand at the house. Pizza and beer. It also seemed that Eren was the same way. “So, Jean…” I knew where this was headed. He was going to ask me about the night in the hospital. 

“…I’m sorry, I should have known that you didn’t return my feelings.” The tone to his voice breaks my heart and I don’t know how to respond. I don’t want him to feel like this. He has no reason to be sorry. “I just want things to go back to the way they were, I 

want to be friends again…” 

“Don’t apologize…I’m just, not ready.” My answer is vague. What am I not ready for? A kiss? A relationship? Love? I’d never be ready to love again. The kiss did feel good until the guilt set in but I knew that Armin would expect a relationship and I didn’t know if 

I could handle that yet. I knew that I couldn’t handle that yet. 

“Why not? I pushed you into something that you weren’t ready for?” 

“No…I…” How do you tell someone that you’re in love with a ghost? In love with a distant memory that won’t release its grasp on you. 

“It’s Marco, it’ll always be Marco. I know Jean.” He doesn’t sound angry, he understands. Or at least he’s trying to understand. I don’t speak but I do nod as an answer. I can hear the bittersweet compassion in his voice.

“He loved you a lot Jean...I don’t know if you knew but he told me about you guys being together…he talked about you a lot. He wouldn’t want to see you living your life like this. He’d want you to move on and get better. You can’t dwell on his death, Jean. It 

won’t change anything and it’s only hurting you and everyone else around you.” I expected to be mad when I heard what he had to say, normally I was. Normally the mere mention of Marco’s name threw me into a fit of anger. But not with Armin, he spoke with 

care and knowledge. 

“I know…” I didn’t. I needed to hear his words. “Just don’t know how to be anything else.” 

“Well I’m here for you, I want to help you.” His words are so powerful; I always found it odd that he could say so much by saying so little. 

 

We’re sitting in the little diner with plates of food in front of us. The silence would overwhelm most normal people; Armin and I are far from normal. I watch him out of the corner of my eye. The way he glances at me every time I look at him. We’re aware of 

each other and I am intrigued by that. Most people wouldn’t put any thought into such a small action. If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that the little things say more than the big things most of the time. Our relationship had so much to say. I couldn’t even 

begin to explain how bad I needed him. And in an odd way, he needed me too. 

“The night I came back…I asked you why.” He says. I think for a minute, trying to remember what he’s talking about. “You said it feels good. How?” Oh. He’s talking about the drugs. He wants to know why I do what I do. He wants to know why I jam a needle 

into my arm for temporary relief and for the first time in awhile, I wonder why I do it too. It’s not like it changes anything or brings Marco back. It’s not like it fixes the fact that I’m fucked up in the head. It’s not like my drug use makes Marco magically alive 

again. It doesn’t do anything other than provide a false hope that things will get easier. I know that they won’t.

“I-“ I don’t have an answer to give him. 

“We all have our reasons.” We. I wonder what he’s talking about. I can’t see Armin being weak enough to need a temporary crutch. Being weak enough to indulge like I do. 

“It doesn’t feel good. It keeps me from forgetting.” It’s true. I am so afraid of losing the memories that I see when I’m high. I need them, I need to keep them or I can’t…I can’t what? I can’t survive? The truth was that I was barely surviving now. I don’t know if I 

want to get better. I was so sure that I didn’t want to but now…now I don’t know. 

 

“Waiting is painful, forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worst kind of suffering.” He’s quoting a book. Armin…I remember him having a habit of quoting intelligent books. The interesting part was, he always had the right quote for the 

moment. He was right. I didn’t know whether to wait around and linger in the idea of Marco or whether to forget the idea of him and move on. I nod at him and he smiles warmly.

“Paulo Coelho is a genius.” I assume that’s the author. 

 

When we get home, we hear what sounds like sobbing. I stop and look at Armin questioningly.

“They started The Last of Us this morning….” I can’t help but laugh because that game is sad and anyone that can get through it without crying isn’t human. I nod in understanding and walk into the living room. Surely enough Connie and Eren are sitting on the 

floor with beer bottles scattered about the room and an empty pizza box between them. 

“Someone call the WAMBULANCE.” Armin teases them. Not only does he quote books, he also quotes Bruce Willis. 

“Is he dead?!” Eren is pleading. Ah, the infamous transition in the game where you switch over to playing as Ellie. It fucked with me the first time I played it too. 

“I’m not telling you!” Connie is cruel, but I understand. He was never one to spoil a good plot twist. It’ll be a heartbreaking twenty minutes or so but I’m sure Eren will live. I walk through the living room and up the stairs to my room, not stopping to talk. When 

I think Armin is going to follow me up stairs, he doesn’t. He stops in the living room, glancing between where I stand and the sofa before taking a seat beside where Eren had resurfaced on the couch. I should be happy that he’s giving me my privacy, but 

instead I find myself jealous that he has his arm slung over the back of the couch behind Eren. 

I find myself in my room, sitting on the floor beside my bed with a bottle of whiskey in my lap and a “City and Colour” album playing through my headphones. Armin’s notes scattered across the floor in front of me. I make sure my door is shut so no one walks 

in on me like this, I feel insecure and vulnerable. It is obvious that I feel this way because I always pull his letters out when I’m in this kind of mood. I open the top envelope. The first letter he sent me. This one, I’d always skipped over because I was sure it 

would have painful memories. Those I had tried so hard to forget. Those memories that I had pushed to the back of my mind. Fuck it. I’m buzzed enough that the thoughts can’t hurt me now. I’ve already seen a painful one, maybe even the most painful one. 

Armin…

 

‘ Jean-  
I hope you’re doing well; everyone here is the same as ever. The commander told us that it’s good to write to soldiers that are discharged. I’m not sure if you want to hear from me or not…the last time I saw you didn’t end well. I’m not sure if you remember or not, but I won’t discuss it. I hope you’re on the road to recovery. Everyone really misses you…even Eren. It’s not the same without you. Eren has no one to bicker with. (Haha) Mikasa misses your pick up lines. I just miss you in general…  
I can’t tell you how sorry I am for what happened…it wasn’t fair, he didn’t deserve that. There isn’t a day that goes by that we don’t think of you and Marco. Also Sasha and Connie. I hope he’s doing alright as well, please tell him I was asking about him.  
It’s been rough since the attack. I’ve got quite the kill count under my belt they say, I don’t want to know the number. The count started the same day we lost Marco and Sasha. I’m not proud of that, I’d give anything to not have to kill. It’s not me. It wasn’t you either Jean. I’m glad you never had to. It changes a person. Well I’m going to just wrap this up, I don’t know what else to say. I’ve never been at a loss for words before, but this is where you leave me. A joke, I assure you…  
Love,  
Ar

And that, in the end, the most interesting people always leave…  
(that’s you.)  
Paulo Coelho is kind of a genius and I think you should read Eleven Minutes, it’s odd but I think you’d like it. Okay, I’m done now…’

 

I’m crying or at least, I’ve got tears running down my cheeks. Why? The letter wasn’t even that touching. Okay, it was. You just have to know Armin well enough to read the dumbed down version of his mind that he’s poured onto the paper. He plays stupid so 

that I can understand him. Although, he doesn’t need to…I can tell what he’s feeling by looking at the careful penmanship. I can see into the very depths of his soul by just looking at the strokes he uses to form the alphabet. I wonder if everyone is this easy to 

understand.

Or is it just Armin?

The few seconds in between songs brings that looming sensation that I’m not alone. I try to ignore it but out of the corner of my eye, I see Armin. Panicking slightly, I carefully fold the letter and tuck it back into the envelope. When I take one of my 

headphones out of my ear and look at him expectantly, he apologizes.

“The door was shut, I knocked. No answer-“ He chuckles nervously. He was worried I was hurting myself. Again. 

“Why read those when you have the real thing at your disposal?” He questions me. The look in his eyes…it’s familiar. It’s not the pity that I face on a daily basis. It’s not the looming panic that he’s going to set me off. I’m not the walking time bomb. 

I’m a damaged person, and he knows. But he isn’t judging. When I look down at the almost empty bottle of whiskey, I pass it up to him. I expect him to turn it down, instead he takes a swig. He doesn’t even falter, the kill count did change him. I notice small 

things now. His eyes aren’t the doe eyes that I remember. They’re piercing now. There’s a small scar that runs down his jaw and neck, the skin is a lighter pink. Barely noticeable. But I see it. His hands are calloused. He’s worked hard. His stance isn’t meek or 

timid. He isn’t afraid to fight. 

 

He’s strong. 

I have to come to terms with the fact that I’m the weakling of the group now. It doesn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would.

Armin passes the bottle back down and I take it, gladly finishing off the small amount he left. I’m buzzed enough now that maybe I could handle a conversation with him. We have so much we need to talk about. He slides onto the ground beside me.

“I’m lonely, Ar.” 

“You don’t have to be.” It’s simple but it speaks volumes. 

“I choose to be.” 

 

He’s at a loss for words. This is where I leave him. 

We make eye contact and he rests his head on my shoulder. I let out a deep breath of air that I didn’t realize I’d been holding in. 

“It’s been so long…” It means so many things. So many things that need to be said, yet I can’t form any intelligent sentences these days. 

“It has been a long time.” He repeats. Still at a loss.

“Why are you the silent one all of a sudden?” He looks at me in shock before his expression softens. I never let myself realize how perfect he is. So I had realized before, but he looks so good in this moment. I find it hard to control my thoughts, they’re jumbled 

and they tell me to do things I don’t know if I should. 

I find myself leaning closer into him. Waiting for him to speak, looking into his eyes and silently begging him to talk. But he doesn’t. He leans into me slightly before backing away. He chuckles nervously and his hand goes to the back of his neck. We’re no 

longer looking at each other. He’s looking out the window and I’m looking at the floor.

“So, I’m sorry about what I did in the hospital.” He breaks the silence. All I can do is backtrack to what I did to him.

“M’ sorry for what I did…at the hospital.” For yelling at him. For being a complete and utter asshole to him. He never deserved that kind of treatment.

“You were upset. I forgave you a long time ago, Jean.” Our eyes find their way back to each other.

In that moment, everything seems so loud. Every single action, every breath or sigh. I feel like I can hear his thoughts, I can feel his emotions. We’re drifting closer together again and I can only honestly remember feeling this emotion one other time in my life. 

Marco.

I flinch.

Armin isn’t Marco.

 

“I do love you,” He breaks the silence. "you know..." 

We don’t move away though. His face is close enough that I can feel his hot breath as he speaks. 

“How could anybody…” Love such a fuck up? I’ve got so many problems that will never go away. I have issues that he’ll never understand.

He sighs deeply. For a second, I don’t think he’s going to speak. For a second, I’m lost. Everything is so complex. I haven’t felt emotions in a long time and they’re almost foreign to me now. 

“I want the parts you’re trying to throw away, Jean…the parts you were convinced no one could ever love. I want to help you through them. I want to make you happy. I’ve never wanted anything less than greatness for you.”

 

Then all of a sudden, everything was different.

 

He smiles warmly and I’m hooked.

 

I’m totally fucking hooked on whatever drug he’s emitting from his mouth. 

 

My heart thuds against my chest, startling me at first. I haven’t felt this in so long. It’s like I’d seen in gray until this point and the world was now vibrant. Vivacious and blinding. I shut my eyes for a second to adjust to the new sensation. The pleasurable 

warmth approaches me and I succumb to it. I lean my forehead gently against Armin’s, cupping his cheek with my hand. His hands don’t waste any time find their way to my hips. There’s a moment of time where we look into each other’s eyes, taking a 

moment to analyze each other. We see each other for the first time in four months. Words can’t describe him in that moment. It would take me forever to explain it. In this moment, I only have seconds. So I tell him how beautiful he is with my lips. 

 

“Ar…” I acknowledge him, so he knows I’m thinking about him as we kiss. I can tell he melts as our lips crash together with ambitious desire. I’m slow at first, trying to keep up with him. My hand slowly traveling to his neck as he pushes forward with his 

mouth, slowly leaning me back onto the floor. Once I’m lying down on my back, he’s on top of me. I panic at first but then I remember how this works. I can feel my tongue slip into his mouth and the old familiar sensation returns to me. The taste of alcohol 

lingers in both of our mouths, instead of being disgusting, it is warming. I feel human, like this is something that’s awakening me from the haze I’ve been in. I feel Armin’s smile against my lips and it isn’t until we pull apart that I see it. 

 

His smile.

 

It’s genuine and dispels any fears I had. We look at each other for what seems like forever before he stands up and pulls me onto the bed. I’m tired, it’s barely 7 p.m. and I’m exhausted. Armin pulls the covers out and signals for me to slide in, I follow his 

instructions but I’m nervous because I’m not ready to go any further than we already have. I can’t do it. He’s wrapped his arms around me, it’s very domestic feeling. Something that I’d long forgotten. A feeling I thought had disappeared forever.

We lay in bed, neither of us speaking. I’ve returned to my reclusive self. It’s against my will that I do and I can’t help it. I can’t tell him what I want to tell him. When I try the words hang loosely from my tongue. There’s so much I want to say. One thing stands 

out in particular. It says everything that he’s wanted to hear. It explains everything I’ve wanted since losing Marco. For once, I don’t need the drugs to fall asleep. I don’t need the delusions of Marco. At least not right now. For now, I’m okay. It’s okay. 

I want to tell him. I need to tell him. But I can’t. I can’t make any promises that this will turn into anything more than this. This moment may be the farthest we ever get, I can’t be certain that I’m even in my right mind. When you’ve lived off of illusions for the 

past couple months of your life, how do handle reality? Armin is great, he really is. I wish that I could move on, I know he’s good for me. We have potential and always have. I just can’t handle the idea of him right now. So for now, I’ve come to terms with what I 

can’t tell Armin. I tell myself what I want to tell him. I’ll tell him eventually. Hopefully.

 

…You make me feel like a person.


	4. Between the lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I was just guessing at numbers and figures  
> Pulling your puzzles apart  
> Questions of science, science and progress  
> Do not speak as loud as my heart"
> 
> ~Coldplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter four, thanks for the support!   
> Please review if you can, I'd really appreciate the input!
> 
> WARNING: This chapter is very awkward smut...so if you're uncomfortable with that, please skip it. 
> 
> As always, here's my tumblr. http://stonerbabe69420.tumblr.com/

They say the story read from between the lines is the story that matters. If it’s really the story in between the words that matters, I had to wonder what people were reading about me. 

It had been six months since Marco had passed. The first four months I spent alone, addicted to injecting broken promises and false ideas into my blood stream in the form of a drug.

I made myself see the things I wanted to see. 

The first four months were torture, unbelievably horrifying.

I was a lost soul that didn’t want to be found. 

I wanted to stay lost and delusional inside my own mind. The truth was that I was hiding from the world, hiding in my own memories and dreams. 

I let the memory of Marco take over my life. I loved him more than anyone; I needed him more than anything. 

 

But now,

The past two months have been better to say the least. I still think about Marco constantly.

I still miss him…god he’s on my mind most of the day.

On the other hand, so is Armin. I’ve almost completely given up on my drug habit, I still slip at times. I

snort a pill or take a couple extra pills, but I haven’t shot up in almost two months. I still have weak moments where I’m not strong enough to go on without Marco. 

I did realize that I don’t always need the drugs to see him. I dream about him sometimes.

Sometimes I dream about Armin.

They’re both a big part of my life and for once, I feel so human. 

 

But back to the story between the lines…

I didn’t even know what that meant, Armin is a firm believer in the theory. 

He has a lot of theories, we discuss them often. Well, he discusses them and I listen.

Okay, so I don’t listen, I don’t understand half of it but I admire him. I admire his intelligence. 

The way his eyes light up when he talks about the books he reads or the places he wants to go. 

The way he sighs after he’s worn himself out talking about the creation of the world. He’s a total dork for Charles Darwin and all I can do is smirk.

I don’t care how the world came to be, it brought this perfect angel to me.

But most of all, I love the way he makes me feel. I don’t know if its love, I don’t know if its admiration but it feels good and I’m okay with it being nameless.

“And then there’s this theory about the anticlimax. Most readers didn’t actually worry about Winston’s life because….Jean?” Armin shakes me out of my daydreams. 

We’re sitting on my bed and it’s on the late side of 2 a.m. We spend a lot of nights staying up until the sun comes out talking about George Orwell and playing the new Call of Duty game. 

It wasn’t always that but it usually ranged between our interests. Half the time I didn’t understand, but I was still fascinated by him. 

“Oh…sorry, I was thinking.” 

“Well I hope you were thinking about the ‘The place where there is no darkness’” Another Orwell reference I’m guessing. 

Fuck, he’s cute. 

I smirk at his comment and lean forward to cup his cheek. Our foreheads touch and I look into his blue eyes. 

They’re glistening and warm as always, instinctively I pull him into a kiss. It’s tender and sweet, conveying emotions that I had long forgotten.

It used to hurt when I’d kiss him like this. 

Sometimes I’d get drunk enough to pretend he was Marco. I’d see Marco instead. I’d want him to be Marco but now, now I’m glad he’s Armin. 

“Jean…” he whimpers against my lips and I know where this is going. 

We’ve kissed and made out but I hadn’t worked up the courage to be with him anymore than that. I’ve left hickies on his neck and the others know that we’ve been together. 

Eren isn’t fond of the idea and he’s been bitter towards me since he found out. 

Connie was happy, he told me that he’d wanted Armin and I to be together since he started sending letters. 

The idea of being with Armin haunted me and comforted me. I knew I wanted to but I felt guilty for it. I felt like I hadn’t grieved enough for Marco.

As the intimacy progressed, I didn’t want to stop. I was working my hands across every inch of his body and his lips were in sync with mine.

My skin was flushed hot and his touch was like ice against it, cooling me down and drawing me in.

With a jerk of my body, I pulled myself away to get up and lock the bedroom door. 

Making a notion to flip the iPod dock on so that my creaky bed couldn’t be heard in the room next door, Even though The Black Keys album playing was just as suspicious as a creaking bed at 2 a.m.

 

When I return back to Armin, I notice that he’d taken his pants and shirt off and pulled a small bottle out of the pocket of his jeans.

He’s sliding his now naked body underneath the covers shyly. I can’t help but smile nervously as I slide in beside him, letting my arms wrap around his waist and drag him closer.

One of my hands goes back to his cheek as I kiss him heavily, longingly. I needed the contact…I needed him so much. 

Our legs are a tangled mess now and I’m on my back with him propped against my chest. It isn’t long before he slides my shirt off and is leaving a trail of electrifying kisses down my chest and onto my stomach. 

He stops at my navel and moves left to bite at my hip bone, biting and sucking gently until a small red welt appears on the skin. He pulls my shorts down quickly; I help him by clumsily kicking them until they’re at my ankles. 

“Ar…” my voice shocks me, it’s whiny and clingy but it gets his attention.

He’s looking at me with a lustful look in his eyes, a hint of concern but I can tell how bad he wants this. 

I can tell that he’s been waiting for me to be okay enough to do this.

“Just relax, let me take care of you.” I’m thankful that he can take the initiative that I cannot at the moment. I’m not ready to be in control of this. I’m not ready to take this into my own hands.

 

I do however pull him so that he’s straddling my hips and he quickly moves his hands to try and cover himself up. 

Let’s face it, he wasn’t lacking in that area so he didn’t do a very good job. With a small grin, I grabbed his wrists and pulled him down. 

I lift my head from the pillow to kiss him with burning passion, biting at his lower lip as I slip my tongue into his mouth. He moans against me and it takes everything I have in me to control myself. 

My mouth is much more skilled than my hands; they’re fumbling over his body with a lack of experience. It had been over six months since I’d touched someone’s body like this.

My lips made up for it though, Armin and I had been kissing often. Whenever we 

could, we were addicted to locking lips with each other. Whether it was a deep passionate kiss or a small peck on the cheek, we were always physical in this way. 

It’s hard for me to ignore how good he looks like this, and it’s obvious to him what he’s doing to my body because I’m painfully hard now. 

He notices and brings one of his hands down to palm over my boxers and as he does he gazes down at me, I can’t help but squeeze my eyes shut and grasp the bed sheets for leverage.

Nervously, Armin moves off of me to remove my boxers and take my erection into his hands. I let out a deep sigh and watch him carefully. 

I try not to panic and I’m sure he can see it in my eyes. I’m about to tell him to tell him I’m not ready until I feel his hand reach up and brush my arm.

“Its okay, Jean…” I don’t have a chance to reply before his mouth is on me, taking my length into his mouth.

Instinctively, my hands go to his hair. I tangle my fingers into his long blonde locks and hold them out of his face. 

I hadn’t realized how long his hair had gotten, but it looks good on him.

I watch him move on me with a precision that torments me with satisfaction. His tongue circling over the tip and sliding down my shaft as he moves up and down. 

The sensation curls my toes and I let out little pleasurable sounds as he takes me into his mouth completely, gagging slightly before taking his mouth off of me and using his hand. 

He seems to be wearing himself out, breathing heavily and looking up at me with tiresome half lidded eyes.

“Sorry, you’re not exactly small…it’s kind of hard for me to-“

I grab Armin’s shoulders and pull him up, he feels good and I fucking love what he’s doing to my body. 

But I don’t feel right with his lips so far away from mine. This is Armin, not some random lay, I want to kiss him and look into his eyes.

I want to know that it’s him.

I immediately connecting my lips to his in full desire, I’m no longer holding back. I’m ready for this, at least in this moment I am. 

He grabs the lube off of the nightstand where he had placed it and rubs it liberally over my member before hovering over top of me. He had a hand placed firmly on my chest as he leans down to kiss me again, this time it’s supportive. 

He’s trying to make this as comfortable as possible. He’s comforting me when he’s the one that is about to do the painful part. 

“Are you ready…” I nod and before I know it, he’s lowering himself down onto me.

He winces slightly at first, my hands go to his waist protectively and keep him from taking me in any further.

I look at him with a deep panic in my eyes.

“Sorry, it’s been awhile. T’ hurts a lil.” I can’t believe he’s apologizing for it…He’s so sweet.

“Ar, it’s okay. Is this okay? I don’t want to hurt you…” I just want him to be comfortable; I don’t want to hurt him. I scan over his expression with precision, he looks like he’s in pain but at the same time he seems happy.

A tear rolls down his cheek and I’m quick to wipe it away and rest a hand against the small of his back and rub soothingly.

I don’t want him to hurt but my worries are quickly replaced with pure bliss as I feel him take me in completely, his whines turning to moans. 

“Yeah, I’m okay-“ He starts to rock his hips on top of me and I can’t get over how perfect he looks and feels. I don’t feel guilty for enjoying this right now. 

Anyone in their right mind would enjoy this. A small smirk plays at the corners of my lips and I admire his facial expressions. 

“Ar…you look so good…” he hums in response and I bring my free hand to his member, I’m gentle and match his pace. “Feel so good.” 

“So do you, babe.” I’ll never get used to his pet names for me. I don’t dislike them but it’s different. It’s loving.

Armin picks up his pace slightly, making it almost impossible to maintain my cool. I can tell he’s having the same issue as I use my hand on him; he’s whimpering and biting his lower lip.

I’m rotating my hips in time with his movements, slightly ashamed at how quickly I feel my climax approaching.

I gaze up at him and his face is flushed a deep red color as I start to feel myself slipping.

“Fuck, Ar I’m going to…” I buckled forward in pleasure, unable to hold it off. Groaning as I pumped my release into the blonde.

Dammit, I hadn’t lasted long at and he didn’t even get off. He lifted himself off of me and I finish my release even harder. It had been so long and fuck I’d missed the feeling. 

For a couple seconds, he watches me. He’s watching me unfold right before his eyes. I’m a mumbling, drooling mess as I experience my first orgasm in six months. 

Once the pleasure was gone, I looked up at Armin in embarrassment. He was still hard and he hadn’t gotten off. 

“I’m sorry Ar,” I wasn’t going to let him go without being satisfied too. I flipped him and laid him down on the mattress, kissing down the center of his chest. 

“Its okay, Jean. I just wanted you to enjoy yourself.” He doesn’t even sound disappointed. 

“No, we’re not done here…” I had a growl to my tone and it scared me at first. I was scared at how easily I took control of the situation. 

Armin noticed too because he glanced up at me quickly with a look of desire in his eyes. 

In the past, I had always been the dominant partner, but it scared me with Armin. I cared too much about his safety. I wrap one of my arms around his neck and drag him closer to me, gripping his length with my free hand. 

My mouth connected with his and we kiss deeply, passionately. Our tongues fighting for dominance, his moans are muffled by my lips.

When he pulls away, he grasps onto me, laying rows of deep scratches down my back. I can’t help but watch him because the facial expressions he’s making are perfect. 

The way his body writhes underneath me makes me forget about all of my problems.

This feels so right. I never thought that it would come to me so easily, I didn’t know him and I fit so well together. Is this what being human feels like?

 

“Jean…” his eyes roll and his hands go to the sheets gripping them tightly to hold himself in place as he bucks into my hand.

“Fuck, I’m cumming…” I feel him release and he lets out a yelp before moaning loudly, I muffle his mouth with my lips trying to keep him from waking the other two up. 

That’s the last thing we need. It takes him a couple seconds to calm down and eventually he melts against me, letting out a loud sigh as I pull my lips away from his and move my hand. 

We look at each other for what seems like forever, I know what he wants to say. I’m surprised to find that I want him to say it. 

I want him to comfort me and to tell me how much he needs me. But he doesn’t. I stare into his loving baby blue eyes and drift off to somewhere where life was always like this.

Where he and I were always in love.

Right now, he was my little piece of universe.

 

“I need a shower…” He breaks me from my thoughts. We’re both pretty sweaty.

“You wanna join me?” Armin looks at me hopefully. 

I don’t answer; I just get up and walk towards the bathroom door. I’m thankful that the room that’s mine has a bathroom in it; it’d be awkward to have to walk past Connie’s room with Armin to share a shower.

I hit the lights and the fluorescent bulbs blind me at first until I adjust. I watched as he turned the dial and hot water poured endlessly into the tub and swirled down the drain with a rushing noise. 

“You first, big guy.” He says. I get in the tub, the warm ceramic under my feet and the hot water streaming down my back. 

The shower is stinging my skin once again. Washing off the absent feeling of guilt. Armin follows in right after me and I immediately feel suffocated.

It wasn’t a completely awful feeling, just unusual. I hadn’t had someone there to keep me company in so long I’d forgotten how to handle this situation. 

 

“Jean…” 

 

“Ar?” 

“Do you regret what we did?” I think for a second, a little too long perhaps. I look everywhere except for his eyes.

Do I regret it? 

It’s a hard question because I do regret it a little, I regret giving him the false hope that I’ll ever be normal enough to be in a real relationship with him.

But he never asked about that and I’m not sure that I wouldn’t be able to be in a normal relationship with him. He had a way of making me feel emotions that I’d forgotten how to feel. 

 

“I don’t.” I say firmly. I mean it, I don’t regret our actions. I regret the way I feel about the sex. 

“Guilt can’t change the past Jean.” 

“I know.” He’s right. He always knows what I’m thinking and it scares me a little bit. I know I’m making progress because I can admit to myself that he’s right now. Instead of trying to cover it up with my denial.

My hands snake around his body and pull him close, the water washing over both of us. I feel like my problems run down the drain. We’re silent for a long time, just letting ourselves absorb the situation. 

Despite how good I felt, despite how hard he tried…I feel wrong.

I delve into the mysteries of the world. 

Upon learning how to feel old emotions, I wonder does this world even know love?

Am I capable of making Armin happy? Marco…his name makes me break.

For the first time in two months, I feel like shooting up. 

I feel the burning sensation on my arms and in my veins. I let myself fall silent and I know in that moment that I am not a fixed man. 

 

I’m a hazard to myself, again.

 

He follows me into my room and I can feel him looking at me, watching me. 

It makes my skin burn and I blush heavily. I want to be angry. I want to break down and yell at him, for no reason.

I feel like hurting him, keeping him away from the dangerous being that is me. I don’t deserve him and I should cut things off now before I can’t turn around. 

“I think you should go.” My voice is rough and forceful.

 

He doesn’t fight me or say anything else before exiting the room. 

Once again, I’ve pushed away the only person that I trust. 

I throw my pair of athletic shorts back on and look at my arms. They’re bruised, recovering from the needles I’d dug into my veins two months ago.

The relapse. 

 

You hear druggies talk about it. It’s a snake in the grass that sneaks up on you when you least expect it. 

The forbidden feeling that you’d thought you had long forgotten.

The temptation that sinks it’s fangs into your vulnerable flesh and sucks the life out of you. 

I could describe it in many ways but it’s nothing more than a pathetic excuse to actually putting the effort into getting better.

I could fight it, I could handle this the right way but I am weak. 

 

So I do what I know, I melt down the powder on an old spoon. Watching it bubble, sighing loudly. 

I thought this was behind me.

It’s not.

It’ll never be completely gone. 

It’s the demon that will always be waiting around the corner to trip me. 

 

The powder turned to a liquid and I pulled the cap off of my needle and dipped it into the clear puddle watching the needle fill. 

I gasped slightly. It had been so long and I was shaking from how bad I needed my fix. I looked at my forearms intently; I didn’t want to risk leaving another visible mark.

I removed the watch that was on my left wrist and tossed it onto the bed, slapping the skin until a large vein stuck out. 

That’s it.

I sunk the needle quickly into my skin, wincing at the prick and the way the liquid felt as it entered my body. 

Slowly pushing my thumb against the plastic and releasing the drug into my body.

I admit that it felt fucking amazing; for a second, I forget why I even quit.

It only takes a couple minutes before the euphoria hits me, harder than ever.

I make a point to put away my paraphernalia. I don’t need Armin to find it, I don’t know how to handle him seeing me like this again. 

I let myself slip into the catatonic state, my throat dry and my skin was hot. I slid off the bed and onto the floor gripping Marco’s jacket.

I hit the nightstand when I slide down and the stack of letters scatters, one falling into my lap. I look at it. Fuck. Armin…

 

If thinking about Marco hurt me before, thinking about Armin shatters me. We could have been alright, he and I. 

 

Why was I doing this again? 

 

I had come so far to revert back to this.

 

The drugs, they take away from reality. 

They make me see life in a new way.

It’s easier for me to understand the world this way. 

It’s easier for me to be lonely and sad than be happy with Armin.

 

Out of curiosity, I open the envelope and skim the words.

Nothing in particular sticks out to me.

Until I remember to read between the lines. I see the smudges from him erasing words…sentences. Things he wants to say but can’t.

I notice the water marks on the paper, like he cried as he wrote the letter. 

There’s a coffee stain, I’m sure knowing him he stayed up late perfecting the words. 

Making sure everything was perfect for me. I put the letters back up on the nightstand. 

 

All at once, life was still. 

 

It’s storming outside, the rain pelting against the glass. Thunder and lightning keeping me from my drug induced coma.

I watch the world outside the window move around me as I sit still. 

I watch Mother Nature take its course and beat up the earth. Beat up what it’s supposed to love. The symbolism hits me like a heavy hammer to my gut.

The pitter patter of rain on the roof is relaxing until the loud noise.

I love the storm but I don’t love the thunder.

I can feel the sky shattering with each loud clap.

I can feel my world shattering with each loud bang and bright light. 

I’ve never put much thought into storms or why I loathe them so much. 

Not the storm…the thunder and lightning. 

 

The fear overtakes my body and makes me horribly confused. 

I want to stay but at the same time…I want to go. But where? 

A loud crack pulls me from my inner turmoil and I feel the hot tears rolling down my cheeks.

I rise and stumble into the hall, falling to my knees after taking a couple steps into the lonely, dark hall. I can’t bring myself back to my feet so I crawl until I’m outside Armin’s door.

I don’t knock.

 

I sit and I listen to what I’ve done to him. 

 

I listen to his muffled cries and faint mumbling. 

I’ve broken him, in my attempt to keep him safe from the person I’ve become…

I’ve fucked him up.

I use the handle to pull myself to my feet and the door makes a bang as it connects with the wall to support my weight. 

His wails cease and I knock to receive no answer. 

I let myself in.

 

Taking one look at him, I’m pulled back to reality. 

He’s slumped over a pillow in the middle of his bed, eyes red and the pain is very apparent on his face.

 

“It’s the storm, isn’t it?” He says to me, he knows I’m scared.

“It’s me…isn’t it?” I know he’s scared.

“I can’t keep doing this Jean, I can’t.” I don’t understand what he can’t do. 

“I didn’t mean to fuck up…” 

“You didn’t…I knew that you’d need time and a lot of support and I rushed things. I was selfish. You regret me, don’t you?”

“Maybe I’ll never be good enough,” I say. I know I’ll never be good enough.

“I can feel you slipping away again.” He retorts, I fumble until I reach his bed and my knees give out. 

He crawls over to me and rests his head against my back, snaking his arms around my waist.

 

“You injected again…didn’t you?” He read me like a book…

“I’m on another path to self destruction, Ar.” I confess and he just nods against my back, continuing to hold me. 

“Let go of what haunts you, Jean.” He sounds bitter but I know he isn’t. He wants me to move on, he needs me to. 

For the first time in awhile, I have to think about his emotions too. He’s worried that I don’t care about him. But I do. I care too much. 

I do feel myself growing more and more attached to him every day. Despite my on again off again personality, I do like him. 

I’d even go as far as to call the nameless feeling I have for him love…

 

Not the same way I love Marco because he was my infinity.

But sometimes...love surprises us.

 

Sometimes love isn’t firecrackers like it was with Marco.

 

I turn to face him and our lips connect; it says everything I needed to say. It tells Armin what I might never be able to verbalize. 

I do love him, even though it hurts.

Even though I feel guilty. 

I know that I need him.

And he needs me.

We’re the perfect balance.

He lies down and I am behind him, holding him. I protect the petite blonde from the horrifying things in life. 

The reality of the world we live in. He protects me from myself. My delusions. My fear.

 

Sometimes, love comes softly like it did with Armin.


End file.
